


For Want Of A Holiday Spirit

by Dikhotomia



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Gift Fic, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mistletoe, Tilly is the best wingwoman, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: "Stop!"Philippa does, freezing up on the spot while six out of seven thoughts cycle through on how best to deal with the person who had shouted at her in the middle of the deck. She turns, a sharp barb on the tip of her tongue to the sight of Tilly a foot and change away from her, looking sheepish."S-sorry I didn't-um-I didn't mean to startle you!" Tilly stutters, wringing her hands and looking up and down the hallways. "I just need you to wait here a second, okay?"ORTilly Gives Philippa and Michael A Little Push.
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Mirror Philippa Georgiou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	For Want Of A Holiday Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightshadespud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshadespud/gifts).



> Rocking up to the Discovery fandom with a 1k shitpost because Terra Firma 2 hurt me and this is how I cope. 
> 
> For my partner, who I dragged into this fandom and this ship and whose now suffering with me.
> 
> Happy Holidays folks!

"Stop!"

Philippa does, freezing up on the spot while six out of seven thoughts cycle through on how best to deal with the person who had shouted at her in the middle of the deck. She turns, a sharp barb on the tip of her tongue to the sight of Tilly a foot and change away from her, looking sheepish. 

"S-sorry I didn't-um-I didn't mean to startle you!" Tilly stutters, wringing her hands and looking up and down the hallways. "I just need you to wait here a second, okay?"

Her eyes narrow, cultivated words left to die in the back of her throat as suspicion takes it's place. "Why should I?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "I have better things to be doing than standing here in the center of the hallway." Like work. It wasn't as if she sat around doing nothing all day when Saru didn't _insist_ on her doing some crew building nonsense. 

"I-I know, I know. I'm taking up your time but please? I'll make it up to you! How, I'm not sure but I can figure it out!" Tilly babbles, checking on something. "I mean this might make up for it anyway, I swear it'll be good I wouldn't stop you if it wasn't--"

"Fine," Philippa cuts in, grimacing. "Just stop talking."

Tilly does. At least until Michael rounds the corner from the opposing hallway and pauses, looking between the two of them. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No! Actually you're just the person I wanted to see!" Tilly shouts, rushing over to pull Michael over to where Philippa still stands, dumbfounded and growing increasingly annoyed for it. If Tilly was anyone else she might have threatened them with bodily harm already.

"Uhh?" Michael drawls, confusion written plain on her face. "Tilly what?"

A second passes before Tilly points up, and Philippa's eyes flicker upward on instinct, tension rising in her muscles in preparation to spring away. "A plant?" Michael says, and Philippa squints.

"Did you seriously waste my time to show me a plant?" She asks, gaze sliding from the greenery to where Tilly stands, now clearly exasperated.

"Wait," Michael starts, reaching out to keep Philippa from moving. "Is that mistletoe?"

"Yes!" Tilly replies, "It is. I hung it there."

Philippa looks from the mistletoe, to Michael and then to Tilly. "If you were trying to poison us you've done a terrible job of it. You could have put it in a drink or food."

Michael presses her hand to her face, heaving a sigh as Tilly flounders, waving her hands. "No! No No that was not--I would never! Why is it always about killing people with you?"

"I'm Terran," Philippa says, deadpan. "It's an art."

"It's a human custom," Michael says a moment later, pulling her attention. "Two people who get stuck underneath the mistletoe..." she trails off, red dusting dark skin. 

"Have to kiss!" Tilly finishes. "And since it's close to the holidays I figured why not, I'd try and bring some holiday cheer to this ship."

Philippa nearly turns to walk away, stopped only by Tilly's hand on her forearm, finding Michael has turned to do the same. "Come on you two! Everyone knows you've both got a thing for one another, you're not very subtle about it, even if you think you are."

Michael makes a noise in her throat, low and indignant and Philippa almost mirrors it perfectly, catching the Commander's eye. "We do not," Michael says a second later, cheeks still faintly reddened. "Not at all."

"I would rather cut off my own hand," Philippa adds, terse, ignoring her own sense of mild embarrassment. 

"But you need both hands!" Tilly rebukes. "Come on, where's your holiday spirit?"

"Nonexistent for this sort of childish thing," Philippa says. 

"Vulcans have different holidays," Michael adds.

Tilly doesn't let either of them go.

Minutes pass and Philippa considers them lucky no one has come through and made a spectacle of them all standing there like a bunch of idiots, all waiting to see who would break first; Tilly, or Michael, or perhaps even Philippa.

She suspects Tilly, surprised when a moment later it's Michael who gives in with a sigh,"If we do this will you let us go?"

Tilly hums an affirmative, nodding and smiling. "Then you can both go back to brooding."

"I do not _brood_ ," Philippa snaps. 

"It's concentration," Michael corrects.

"It's totally brooding," Tilly says.

Philippa rolls her eyes, focusing on Michael across from her. "Are you really thinking about humoring her?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "We could just leave."

In hindsight she wonders why she didn't just leave, perfectly capable of yanking her arm free and continuing on to her destination. 

Curiosity, perhaps.

"We'd just get dragged in to it again," Michael replies, shrugging. "I know Tilly, when she sets her mind to something it'll happen."

"I'd be proud if it wasn't at my expense," Philippa mutters, shaking her head, distracted by the quiet laugh her words earn her. 

"I'll take that as a compliment, Emperor, Commander," Tilly replies, taking the chance to release them and back away back to her original point of ambush. A second later she turns away, covering her eyes. "I won't watch."

They get nowhere, both still standing right where they had been, staring. Waiting for the other to make a move. Philippa glances off down the hall, considering leaving a moment before a hand seizes the collar of her coat, dragging her attention back.

Michael's lips are soft, fingers warm where they brush her throat and her jaw as the younger woman pushes into her personal space. It takes only a moment after the shock of it wears off for her to return it, the kiss something far more gentle and chaste compared to any she had had previous. 

Strange, but not unwelcome.

Lingering.

Until Michael pulls away, staying close, forehead pressed to hers. "Okay," she whispers, licking her lips. "We did it."

Philippa can see Tilly as she turns back to them, clasping her hands together. "See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

Neither of them say anything, but Philippa doesn't stop Michael as she reaches for her hand and pulls her away down a hallway, smirking at the wave the younger woman flicks over her shoulder as Tilly calls after them.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/modulatechaos) If you want


End file.
